pajo – self-titled

you said i like crazy dudes, it’s true
but not that crazy, and not that dude

laying on the lounge room floor. four beers consumed and being processed. oh no no is perfect for the effect; and hell, so is the whole album.

i remember absorbing it as soon as i bought it. high lonesome moan nailed it for me, only the second song in. dave’s voice across this album sounded somehow doubled up, like there were at least two of him singing in perfect unison. no, that’s not an effect of the alcohol; though it is kind of like seeing double.

this was the first album that he released under his own name, though effectively his entire papa m catalogue was mostly him anyway. there were undoubted reasons for the shift. his preceding work with one massive bald turd (which had to be of his own choice) was maybe a big part of that.

it is a perfect illustration in parts of his euphoric acoustic guitar (perhaps the best guitarist in the collection – of all varieties); but even more so his amazing voice that never really got a run til he started and continued on his own. i love the times in every release he’s made where it feels just a little bit self-conscious. like on manson twins here when he sings: there’s so many in the city but it’s you i greet, hot steaming head for my lover to eat.

i remember now why i loved it so much: baby please come home. this was another album that came towards the end of the second age of the collection, and about a year after i broke up with my first boyfriend. by then, the sentiment had almost passed. but a song like this made me wonder if i actually felt this way – as though i really did still want him back – boy, it’s clear that you didn’t want me. the music itself is unparalleled – that i have never heard in any other guise. there’s a twangy oddness to the relentless rhythm; skipping; combined with the voice above. it’s almost impossible to describe.

there is tea on the stove
there is food in the fridge
and the bed is warm
oh baby please come home

it came back again when, by april 2006 i had ended with another – the one i regret [qualifier – regret losing, not being with]. and the fortune came that dave actually toured australia. this was his most recent album at the time and the core of the performance. i never understood why so few people were there. it cost $20 at the door of the grace emily hotel in adelaide. i sat on the ground the whole time with my back against an internal wall not far from the stage, watching intently the whole time, except when i closed my eyes and felt it, emotionally and throughout my body. it was literally dave with his huge guitar (relative to him) and his foot bells. the regretted later asked “how was david pargo?”. i believe i had no further contact with him after that…

we lost our minds and pulled the fuck through

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